Going Fishing
by ChelsieSouloftheAbbey
Summary: One-shot fic for the lovely brenna-louise for her BIRTHDAY and starring her namesake from my Music of the Heart/Music of Our Lives series. Little Brenna Bates spends the day with Granddad and Granny - pure fluff! Happy Birthday, my dear! xxx (See cover art by the amazing dameofdownstairs - THANK YOU for fulfilling the request! It's PERFECT!)


**Gone Fishing**

 **This is a birthday story for one of my fandom besties, the LOVELY brenna-louise. A couple of months ago she requested a supplemental piece to "Music of Our Lives" in which we might see her namesake - young Brenna Bates - interacting with her beloved Granddad Charles and Granny Elsie. Who am I to argue?**

 **In addition, as an** _ **added**_ **bonus, check out the cover art image for this story, which was lovingly painted by dameofdownstairs! (She's got an Etsy store that you should all check out - shameless plug!)**

 **Please leave a little review, then pop on over to tumblr and wish brenna-louise a fabulous birthday!**

 **Cheers!**

 **CSotA**

* * *

 _ **Late Summer, 1930**_

"Charlie, she's going to be here soon! Do you have everything ready?" Elsie called out the kitchen window.

"I do," he replied from the garden, smiling at his wife's gentle reminder. He had, in fact, just been out to the tool shed to fetch everything he needed. "I'll be right in!"

Elsie chuckled and shook her head as she finished wrapping up the last of the sandwiches. Charles sounded absolutely _gleeful,_ a tone in his voice that always made an appearance when the grandchildren were visiting - and, more specifically, when it meant he'd be having alone time with Brenna. John and Anna were traveling with the family this weekend, and while they were taking young Jack with them (mostly to keep Master George occupied; the boys got on well despite the gap in their ages), they'd asked the Carsons if Brenna could spend the night in their care. Charles had accepted immediately, then thought he should run it by his wife - who, of course, couldn't possibly object when she'd seen the hopeful twinkle in his eye … not that she would have, anyway.

Elsie placed the sandwiches into a picnic basket and added two apples, a wedge of cheese, a bottle of lemonade with two small cups ( _metal, thank you, with a five-year-old utilizing one of them_ …) and two rather generous slices of chocolate cake. She added two extra napkins as an afterthought, then tucked a tea towel over it all to ensure everything stayed in place and would be protected from the sun.

Charles came in through the kitchen door and made for the sink to wash his hands. Elsie moved up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, gently hugging him and placing a kiss to his shoulder blade.

"Well, now, what's this?" he murmured, turning around in her arms as he reached for the towel. He leaned over to kiss her lips, and felt her smile.

"I just adore you," she said, and he could see it in her eyes.

"And I, you, my dear," he replied, drawing her into a rather more heated embrace - one that was broken up abruptly several moments later when the doorbell sounded.

"Well, then," she said, her voice somewhat thick, "off you go!" She patted his chest as she backed away, letting him head for the door as she stood behind for a moment and tried to quickly fix her hair.

"Hello?" Anna's voice called, and Elsie heard Brenna's voice echo, "Hello? Granddad?"

"Where's my little girl?" Charles grumbled, making a production of searching through the sitting room and front hallway for her. He looked under the sofa, behind the chairs, up the chimney, and in the closet. "I thought I heard her voice, but she's _nowhere_ to be found!"

"I'm _here!"_ she squealed, familiar by now with their little game, and he turned around in mock surprise.

"Brenna - _there_ you are!" he rumbled, reaching down and picking her up effortlessly. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as he placed several kisses to her cheek, causing her to giggle.

"Anna," Elsie said warmly. "How are you, my dear?"

"Very well, thank you," she replied, placing a kiss to Elsie's cheek. "Brenna has been looking forward to this all week," she added, placing Brenna's overnight bag on the chair. "Thank you so much for taking her. I hope she's not too rambunctious for you!"

"Are you kidding?" Elsie chuckled. "Charlie's got the entire afternoon planned already - _I'm_ getting a quiet few hours to myself!"

Anna sighed. "I have no idea what that's like," she said, shaking her head, "but it sounds _amazing."_

"Surely you and John can take your next half day together?" Elsie enquired. "See if you can set it up, and we'd be happy to take the children. Anytime, you know that," she reminded her girl, and Anna nodded and smiled.

"I do, it's just that his Lordship has been so busy lately that John's schedule is all out of whack," she said. "But I'll definitely see what I can do. At this point, I'm convinced that all we'd manage to do is _sleep,"_ she added under her breath, causing Elsie to chuckle, "which sounds pathetic but which, in reality, is much needed."

"I'm sure," Elsie said, patting her hand. The two ladies then made their way to the back patio, where Charles had brought Brenna to fetch their supplies.

"Be careful with those, love," he warned Brenna. "You must hold them upright or you could swing them around and hit one of us in the face, and we don't want that."

Brenna nodded seriously, two fishing rods clutched tightly in her small hands as she held them out a bit from her body.

"Fishing?" Anna gasped. "Oh, how wonderful - it's a perfect day for it, too."

Charles nodded. "Yes. And I think she's old enough to manage it now, aren't you, Brenna?"

"I am!" she shouted.

"Come give me a kiss goodbye, Bren," Anna said, and her daughter responded dutifully, handing the rods to Elsie for a moment so that she could hug Anna.

"I'll miss you, Mummy," she whispered, "but I'm going to have fun with Granddad and Granny!"

"You will," Anna replied, dropping a kiss to Brenna's chestnut-colored curls. "And I'll see you tomorrow night."

"If you need to leave her until Monday -" Elsie began softly, but Anna cut her off.

"I think we'll be fine for tomorrow, but it may be a bit late. We'll phone and let you know."

Charles nodded. "That's fine, Anna. You know it would be no trouble, though."

"Thanks for that. Alright, then, I'm off!" she said, but then she leaned in to whisper something in Elsie's ear.

Elsie flushed and smiled, shaking her head and biting her lip in embarrassment as Anna headed out the door with a smirk.

Charles looked at his wife curiously, and she handed the poles back to Brenna and asked her to lean them up against the tool shed.

"What was that about?" Charles mumbled once Brenna was out of earshot.

Elsie looked at him with a little spark in her eyes as she reached behind her waist. "Truly, Charles, my blouse? You could have _told_ me it had come untucked!"

Brenna heard his laughter and came back to investigate, stumbling upon her Granddad placing a loving kiss to her Granny's forehead.

"What's so funny, Granddad?" she asked innocently.

"Never you mind," Elsie answered for him.

Brenna shrugged. "Can we go now, please?" she asked Charles, and he nodded.

Elsie handed him the basket and made sure Brenna had the poles clutched tightly in her hands. Charles also grabbed a pail, which contained a healthy assortment of bait for their afternoon.

"All ready?" he asked, and Brenna nodded.

"Enjoy your afternoon, Els," he said, smiling at her, and she nodded back.

"See you both for dinner - maybe we'll be able to have fish!" Elsie encouraged, and Brenna nodded.

"Bye, Granny!"

* * *

As Elsie was curling up in her favorite chair - where she would spend the next few hours alternately reading her new novel and dozing off, completely calmed by the gentle, warm breeze blowing in through the windows - Charles and Brenna arrived at the lake.

"Alright, we'll set the basket here, in the shade," Charles told her.

"Yes, so the sun doesn't heat up our food," she said, nodding.

Charles looked at her fondly. "Exactly. My, but you _are_ a smart lass, aren't you?"

"Thank you, Granddad."

"We'll fish off the dock," he explained. "I'll show you how to bait the hook, and then show you how to toss the line out. Then we sit, very quietly, and _wait."_

"Are there lots of fishies in the lake?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "Do you remember what happens when we paddle out into the water?"

Her eyes lit up and she nodded, her curls bouncing around her face. "Yes - the fishies swim around our legs!"

"Exactly," he confirmed. "So let's hope we see a few today."

He gathered up the pail and followed Brenna as she took the poles out to the deck. He removed a container from the pail and showed it to her, smiling at her fascination with the bait worms that were crawling around in the dirt within.

"Are the fishies going to eat them?" she asked.

"Well, we hope so," he said. "So, you take up a worm like this," he showed her, "and put it on the hook." He hooked his own and then set it aside, holding her pole so that she could hook her own worm.

"Does it hurt the worm?" Brenna asked, and Charles wasn't quite sure what to say.

"I don't know," he deflected, "but they're the fishies' favorite food."

"Sometimes animals die so we can eat them," Brenna nodded sagely. "Like on Mr. Mason's farm."

"That's right, Brenna. And animals often eat _other_ animals, too," he told her, grateful that someone had already explained _that_ little detail to her before today.

"Alright, my worm is on - he's still wiggling, Granddad!" she said, and Charles chuckled.

"He is - and the fish will _see_ that and come to investigate. And do you know what happens next?"

"Then the fishie _eats it,_ and he gets caught, and we put him in the pail and _we_ can eat _him!"_ she squealed, clapping her hands.

"Exactly," Charles said. "Now, you cast the line out like this …" he said, and he demonstrated.

Brenna followed suit, managing quite a good throw for her first time.

"Well done," Charles praised quietly. "And now we sit and wait. We can talk about anything you'd like, but we must do so quietly so that our voices don't scare the fish."

"Yes, or then they won't come near the worms."

"Quite right."

They spent the next couple of hours chatting and fishing, breaking after the first half hour to have lunch. As the sun grew stronger, Charles and Brenna grew hotter, resulting in his rolling up his shirtsleeves and Brenna's begging to play in the water.

"Oh, why not?" Charles allowed. He helped her to remove her dress so that she could swim in her undershirt and knickers. When she was cooled off, he used the extra cloth napkins and tea towel from the picnic basket to assist Brenna in drying off as best she could.

By the end of the afternoon there were four fish in the bucket - three caught by Brenna herself. She wanted to stay until Charles caught two more ('so that it's fair, Granddad'), but Charles refused, his slightly achy lower back and the state of Brenna's overall appearance telling him that it was time to get back to the cottage. They packed up the remainder of the cheese which, of course, was all that was left over; the sandwiches, cake, and lemonade had long since been disposed of by the two hungry 'fishermen.' Hand in hand, they walked back to the cottage, Brenna now managing the nearly-empty basket while Charles took control of the rods and pail.

"Elsie?" Charles called softly as he opened the door. "We're back."

"There you are! I wondered where -" She stopped short as she took in Brenna's appearance: muddy legs, a leaf in her tangled, wet hair, dirt smudged on her cheek.

"Oh, my," she laughed, "someone needs a bath, and _now."_ Elsie pointed up the stairs and Brenna dutifully marched up to the bathroom, already looking forward to the gigantic tub that would soon be full of warm, sudsy water in which she could 'swim.'

"You, too, Mr. Carson," she added, one eyebrow raised as she continued to point up the stairs. "You allowed her to get that filthy, _you_ can make sure she's clean. Just leave the bucket of fish in the kitchen."

Charles looked at his wife guiltily, but she just laughed.

"I'm not cross with you, you daft man," she said softly, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek and brushing some errant curls from his brow. "It looks like you both had a _great_ deal of fun, and I'm glad."

"That we did," he said, "dinner in hand, no less - most of which was caught by your granddaughter, I might add."

"I can see that," Elsie muttered, looking in the pail.

"Um, Elsie, I never thought to ask … you _do_ know what to do with those, don't you?"

"Of course I do - farm girl, sea close by. I certainly know my way around a fish, thank you very much. You've got about an hour before we eat."

"Good, I'm starving," he admitted, just as Elsie was peeling away the cloth in the picnic basket.

"You can't be serious," she muttered, earning her a pinch on the bottom as Charles walked by.

"Brenna ate it all."

"Ha! Oh, yes, I'm sure you gave her _all_ the cake, because you can't stand it yourself," she said. "Up you go, Granddad. Be sure to rinse her hair well, too - and no getting soap in her eyes!"

"Yes, Granny," he called back, already halfway up the stairs. "Not my first bath, you know."

"And wipe the floor when you're done!" she shouted up the stairs. She heard a rumbling reply but didn't bother trying to decipher it.

* * *

Dinner had been cooked and eaten, dishes had been washed and put away, and both Carsons were ready for a quiet evening snuggled up with their darling girl.

"I've got the book!" Brenna shouted from where she was standing in the study.

"We _can_ hear you, you know," Elsie cringed. "Indoor voice, please, alright?"

"I'm sorry, Granny," Brenna said more softly, hugging Elsie's waist as she held up her book.

" _Winnie the Pooh._ Why am I not surprised?"

"It's my favorite - please?"

Elsie reached down to tighten the ribbon that held Brenna's hair. "Of course," she said. "Come on, then, Granddad is already in bed waiting for us." She held out her hand and Brenna took it, practically dragging her Granny up the stairs.

Elsie watched as Brenna bounded into the bedroom and leaped onto the large bed in which her Granddad was already nicely settled.

"Look at you two, making yourselves comfortable," Elsie said softly, and Charles smiled at the loving look in her eyes. She retrieved a nightgown from the wardrobe and she heard Charles sigh softly as she walked by him to the en suite. She turned and raised an eyebrow at him, her meaning clear: _Well, I certainly can't wear one of those_ _ **other**_ _ones in front of her,_ _can I?_

"I know," he whispered, and he clasped her hand as she walked by and placed a kiss to her palm.

"Let Granny change so we can read!" Brenna complained. "Please," she added as an afterthought.

Elsie emerged five minutes later, her hair unplaited but loosely tied, and took a moment to appreciate Charles's look of admiration. He loved her hair, and she often left it down for him, but tonight she had it tied back just like Brenna's was, because the lovely little girl had expressed a wish that she and Granny would 'match.' Still, though, it was a much softer look than usual, and one that her husband appreciated.

"Alright, then," Charles rumbled as Elsie climbed into bed and scooted over toward him. Brenna was comfortably snuggled on her Granddad's lap, the book open in front of them, and Charles began to read.

 _This is the life,_ Elsie thought after a few moments, smiling fondly at her husband. He caught her glance and leaned over for a quick, chaste kiss.

"I want a kiss, too!" Brenna shouted, causing her grandparents to laugh.

"A fine idea, indeed," Charles said, and he and Elsie peppered Brenna's cheeks with kisses as she squealed with glee.

"Alright, my tired loves, let's finish this story," Elsie suggested, and Charles readily complied.

Twenty minutes later, storybook closed and laid on the side table, all three were fast asleep in the bed.


End file.
